


to have been loved so deeply

by AliuIce0814



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliuIce0814/pseuds/AliuIce0814
Summary: This pain in Remus' muscles and bones was nearly as bad as a transformation. No, worse, because while transformations came and went, Remus knew he would have to live with this grief forever. Even once it lessened, it would remain, a dull, throbbing ache ready to flare at any moment.





	to have been loved so deeply

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this three years ago after my beloved aunt passed away. I rediscovered it while sorting through old files and thought I should post it.

Remus filled the mop bucket with water from the kitchen tap. He had his wand in its holster on his hip--even as distraught as he was, he wasn’t fool enough to set it down anywhere in Grimmauld Place, particularly knowing what he knew now about Kreacher. He needed the repetition and and physical effort of mopping without magic. His mother had taught him when he was very small; he remembered sitting on the mop to slow her down, laughing as the soapy water soaked through his corduroys. When he was older, he showed her how to mop with magic. While the mop did its work, she hummed the music from Mickey Mouse’s “Sorcerer’s Apprentice.”

Water slopped over the side of the bucket as Remus set it on the ground. Kreacher was only conscientious about Black family heirlooms, and Merlin knew Sirius had never cleaned the basement kitchen. Molly had occasionally, but not since the snake mauled Arthur. Remus was tired of his shoes sticking to the flagstones. He dipped the mop into the bucket and then started to scrub. The candles floating over the table flickered. 

“Cleaning?” a voice called from the stairs. Remus started and looked up to find Tonks leaning on the railing. She still looked rather peaky, especially with her hair only a pale pink instead of its usual bubblegum shade. The railing creaked beneath her grip as she limped downstairs. “You should pass that over to me,” she said, reaching out a hand toward the mop. “I’m the one who’s spilled the most beer down here.”

Remus shook his head. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. His throat ached. “I need the distraction.”

“You know, most people would go for a drink.”

Remus snorted. “I’m too old for that.”

“Sirius would’ve,” Tonks said. “If it were you gone.” Remus slopped more water out of the bucket onto a particularly sticky grey patch. The mop’s wooden handle was hot where he gripped it. When Tonks sighed, he dug his canine teeth into the meat of his cheek. “Listen,” Tonks said, “far be it from me to tell you how to grieve--”

“Thank you,” Remus said sharply, louder than he had intended. He yanked the mop, trying to get it unstuck from an old piece of gum.

“But make sure you actually grieve.” Tonk’s voice was louder than his. Remus couldn’t quite tell if this was by design or if it was just because Tonks was always loud. Like Sirius. “Don’t hole yourself up here. I see you doing it, and I don’t like it.”  
  
“I thought you said you weren’t going to tell me how to grieve,” Remus said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I lied so you would listen. I see you. I see what you’re doing.”  
  
Remus lifted the mop. “I think that’s obvious,” he said icily. His mouth tasted sour. He swallowed and didn’t look at Tonks. 

Tonks made an impatient noise. “Fine,” she said. “Would you like help cleaning?” Remus shook his head. “I’ll wash the dishes,” Tonks said. Before Remus could remind her that he’d just said ‘no,’ she brushed past him, limping toward the sink. The dishes rattled in the cupboard. “Ow,” Tonks said sharply. Remus assumed she’d bumped her hip on the cabinet door. He moved the mop slowly against the flagstones, listening to the clank of silverware in the sink. He tried and failed to come up with a way to convince Tonks to leave. After a minute of brooding, he sighed heavily and went back to mopping. 

Remus and Tonks worked in relative quiet. She must have been watching her motions carefully, or else her injury restricted her enough to prevent her typical clumsiness; after the initial bump, Remus only heard the occasional clink of china. He barely saw the flagstones beneath his feet. He saw his mother’s laminate floor, then the Potters’ kitchen striped with summer sunlight, Dave Brubeck on the radio….James and Peter playing in the sprinkler with the neighbor boys, their teenage voices cracking every time they yelled….and Sirius’ bark of a laugh coming from the living room--  _ “Moony, come look at this magazine, you won’t believe these Muggle girls--aren’t half as pretty as you, of course--” _

Remus pushed the mop bucket to the sink. He kept his gaze fixed on the damp countertop until Tonks turned off the tap. “All yours,” she said briskly. Remus lifted the bucket and poured the grey water down the drain. The bucket clattered when he set it on the ground. He made to lean on the mop, but Tonks pulled it out of his grip. “Anything else need doing?” she asked. Remus shook his head. His mouth was exceptionally dry. Tonks stood still, probably waiting for more of an answer. When none came, she sighed and set the mop against the wall. “Well, if you decide you need help, I’ll be upstairs.”

Remus’ chest filled with something horrible and hot. Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Tonks’ hand. Her fingers were small and cool in his grip. He stared at the blue lines of veins visible in the bit of her wrist that peeked out from her jumper. Her fingers twitched. Abruptly, Remus found himself tugged forward until he was chest-to-chest with Tonks. Her free hand, cool and soft, came to rest on the back of his neck. Remus took a deep breath--and great jagged sobs came out.

“Remus,” Tonks said, startled. Remus screwed up his eyes and shuddered. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said. Her arms came around him tightly. Remus lurched forward. They staggered together for a moment before Tonks somehow found her balance. Remus felt far away and too close all at once. His voice came in whines loosed against Tonks’ quickly dampening shoulder. She rocked him like that, even on her bad leg, her fingers carding through his hair. “I know,” she said, voice cracking. “Shh, Remus, there you go, sweetheart. All right. All right.”

“Sorry,” Remus gasped, struggling to push himself upright. “I didn’t--I don’t--”

“Shh. Let’s sit down, shall we? All right? Let’s just have a sit-down here.” Tonks’ voice was gentle but clear. Remus nodded dumbly. Step by limping step, Tonks guided him to the table. Instead of helping him into a chair, she nudged him until he sat on the table itself. She hauled herself up beside him and wrapped her arms around him again. Remus slumped against her, breath still coming in wet gasps. He could feel Tonks’ own hiccuping breaths against his cheek. 

“I miss him, too,” she said.

Remus swallowed hard. “I miss him so damn much. I miss all of them. Even--even when he was in Azkaban and I thought--I thought he’d betrayed Lily and James, and I hated him so terribly, I missed him.” Remus’ limbs shook. This pain in his muscles and bones was nearly as bad as a transformation. No, worse, because while transformations came and went, Remus knew he would have to live with this grief forever. Even once it lessened, it would remain, a dull, throbbing ache ready to flare at any moment. Remus dug his fingers into Tonks’ side. She didn't complain. “James and Lily, and oh.”  
  
The jagged sobs came again. Remus could feel Tonks shivering with them too. Once they slowed, Remus’ eyes burned. He sat up a little and squeezed Tonks’ shoulders. She looked at him, face blotchy. “He used to let me try the foam off the top of his Muggle beer. When I was little. When he visited,” Tonks said.

Remus inhaled through his nose, trying to clear it enough for him to breathe properly. “I remember that,” he said. “He put it on your lip like a mustache.” 

Tonks frowned. “You were there? I don’t remember that.”

Remus smiled just a little. It hurt. “Don’t worry; I only visited once, and I made sure to keep quiet. But I remember. He put it right--” He reached out with one shaking hand and gently swiped his fingers over Tonks’ upper lip. She twisted away with a sound that was either a laugh or more tears. “You hated it. Understandably. He had terrible taste in Muggle beer.” 

“Wait. Were you holding his hand?” Tonks asked. “If that was you, then I do remember. Sirius and Mum had their row after you left.”  
  
Remus rubbed his numb fingers together. “Why’d they row?” he asked rather than answering.

“I don’t know,” Tonks admitted, brow furrowing. “At the time I thought it was because of the gay bit, but she never gave me trouble when I brought girls round for dinner, so now I reckon it must’ve been about you being a werewolf.”

Remus frowned. “I hadn’t realized they’d fought about me.”

Tonks shrugged. “Sirius didn’t come round after that. Went to Azkaban pretty soon after anyway, so.”

“Oh, Sirius. He should have kept visiting without me. I would have understood.” Remus rubbed his face. Stubble scraped against his palms. 

“But--so you were--sorry, Remus--” Tonks leaned a little more heavily on him-- “You were together then, too? He brought you to meet my family because he was your boyfriend?”

“I still don’t know why. Things were so different then,” Remus said slowly, face heating up. Even after all this time, being caught made him feel like a wrong-footed teenager, especially since sharp-eyed Tonks was the one doing the catching. “The wizarding community’s never been as accepting of queerness as the Muggle community. And that’s not to mention my furry little problem.” Remus’ voice shook a little when he said it--it was Sirius’ phrasing, of course. 

Instead of speaking, Tonks brushed her fingers across Remus’ cheek. He held very still. He could feel his pulse fluttering in his throat. “You know,” she said quietly, “I don’t think you’ve let me be this close to you since the night Sirius got us to drain a bottle of firewhisky. Remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” 

It was just before the snake got Arthur, when they’d tracked down a cell of Death Eaters in Antrim, and that brief victory felt like winning the whole war. Sirius poured double shots for everyone and struggled to harmonize with Tonks in a cover of a Weird Sisters song that somehow morphed into “Rock the Casbah.” The three of them stayed in the kitchen long after everyone else had gone to bed, getting drunker and drunker as the candles flickered in pools of wax. Tonks looped her arms around Remus’ shoulders-- “You smell good,” she insisted over and over again as Remus laughed helplessly. He pulled her onto her lap, or tried; they spilled onto the sticky flagstones in a heap of tangled legs. Then Sirius went upstairs, squeezing Remus’ shoulder and smirking at him as he passed. Remus hadn’t touched a woman since school, and it showed, but Tonks fumbled as much as he did. Neither of them minded. Remus woke up the next morning with a migraine and Tonks’ cheek propped against his bare shoulder, her lips parted in sleep.

Now, Remus sighed, hands trembling. “We’ve been busy.”

“He gave me hell about it later, y’know. Sirius. Not really,” Tonks said quickly, noticing the panicked and furious expression on Remus’ face, “just teasing. Big cousin stuff. Maybe a little bit of jealousy, now that I think about it, but mostly big cousin stuff.”

Remus dug his fingers into Tonks’ arms without meaning to. When she hissed, he let go quickly. She stayed on his lap. “He had no right to say anything. We always had a--had an agreement, even before Azkaban.” Remus swallowed. “He wanted to give us options.” 

“What did you think?”  
  
Remus shook his head. “He always deserved better than me. But I always wanted him.”

Tonks’ head fell against Remus’ collarbone with a clunk. He winced, then winced again when she raised her eyes and fixed him with her stare. “Shut up. You really think that SIrius thought someone out there might be better for him than you? Sirius Black, the man who followed you around this house like a lost puppy for a year? Who brought you to meet my family? Who cut ties with my mum for you? Who left Azkaban and came back to you?”  
  
“Dogs aren’t particularly discerning.” Remus thought it was a fair point, but Tonks slapped his arm.

“He loved you,” she said, and her voice shook. Remus’ stomach clenched. “He loved you, Remus. Everyone could see it. So just shut up, please. Stop diminishing it.”

“Tonks,” Remus said, heart thudding in his ears, hands curling into fists.

“He loved you,” Tonks repeated. She was a warm steady weight on Remus’ lap in the middle of the kitchen Sirius got them drunk in, in the middle of the house Sirius despised, and Remus couldn’t stand it. He held Tonks, his mouth hanging open to let in gasps. She said ‘he loved you’ for each breath he took. Wax dripped onto the table in counterpoint to the drip of the mop. The candles burned low. 

**Author's Note:**

> "To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever."
> 
> For Aunt Linda.


End file.
